The People of the Plains
by Enter the Honey Jar
Summary: A prelude to "Et tu, Asdalu?" The origins behind the Garif and their funky masks explained! Featuring Asdalu and Supinelu


**My idea of a one shot. I tried to explain a few things, in my own way, that the original story (in the game) doesn't. I guess it serves as a nice little segway to "Et tu, Asdalu?". Nevertheless, I'm wide open for opinion.**

_**The People of the Plains: Origins**_

"Wake up Asdalu! I will not have you nap in the middle of MY history lesson!"

"zzzzzz…zzgnmff??"

The young Garif groggily looked up to see Low Chief Supinelu stomping his foot in the ground.

"That's better."

The adult turned to the slate chalkboard and began to jot down some notes. The students, sitting cross legged on the ground, paid close attention.

With the exception of one.

"Uhh, sir?" Asdalu raised his hand.

"What is it boy?"

"So what exactly are we learning about again?"

The clacking sound of chalk on slate halted abruptly.

"What ARE we learning about today, class?" said Supinelu in a frustrated tone, still facing the board.

"The origin of the Garif peoples!" the class called out.

"Exactly," He turned around. "And you, mister Asdalu, what do you know about the history of our people?"

"Well….hmmm…there was a big impact and….."

"And?"

"and…that water thing spewed out…I think…"

"The Seven Oceans, good. And?

"errr……hmmm…"

"Can someone help him out please?"

One of the students raised his hand.

"Marshudu, would you be as kind as to explain on his behalf?"

"Yes sir. Millennia ago, the God brothers Delias and Vishnou began a war to determine who will dominate Bancour, and one of their weapons struck the young earth below, creating a giant crack."

"Asdalu, be sure to take note of this. It JUST might be what will keep you from failing."

"Yes sir…"

"Carry on please."

"The gash in the earth caused it to bleed, inundating the surface with its life-water. The flooded areas soon became oceans; the Seven Oceans, to be exact."

"Very good. Sunanau, can you continue?"

"Yep! The Goddess Veless shed her tears in remorse for allowing her brothers quarrel, and the drops fell to the world as the Wet. At times Delias and Vishnou would fight even more viciously. The sparks and sounds of their weapons hitting each other would come down as lighting and thunder, and Veless would weep even harder when they did. There would be times of truce though, and for a brief period of time, Veless's tears ceased to fall on the plains."

"Excellent. Are you still paying attention Asdalu?"

"Yes sir…."

"The two Gods fought for centuries; spilling their limbs, organs and blood in the process, but they just regenerated the next day and the fighting continued."

"So, do you think you can finish this off, boy?"

"…I think so."

"Then go ahead."

"Their limbs became the trees, their intestines the snakes, and their hair the grass. Basically, their parts made up all the different living things in the Ozmone."

"And so?"

"…and so the hearts of the Gods became the Garif and their blood the Nanna; each dependant upon the other for survival."

"Very good! I must've been mistaken; you were paying attention after all!"

"Well actually I was just reading off the board…" Asdalu pointed.

Supinelu glanced back.

"Well, fair enough."

_Bweeeet! _

The village horn sounded in the distance. A Garif youth came running down from the great chief's tent, almost tripping over some of the students on the way.

"Low Chief! Low Chief!" he huffed.

"What, what is it?"

"Your brother sir! Kadalu is now War Chief! It was determined just now!"

"Are you serious lad??"

Asdalu piped up. "Does this mean our lesson's over?"

Supinelu thought for a moment.

"Sigh……..class dismissed."

The Garif children went running toward the village centre, where the inauguration ceremony was already commencing.

"Are you sure you aren't going to join the others, Asdalu?" said Supinelu, looking back.

"Not interested."

"Why is that?"

"Well, it's important in some ways I guess, but watching someone I don't even know very well receive a fancier mask then what we have, is just something that I don't find very interesting."

"Very well then." Supinelu sighed, and walked off.

The Low Chief was concerned with the young Garif; Asdalu did not seem to have the appreciation for his own people's culture that everyone else in Jahara shared. Even the masks he did not take seriously.

The Garif masks, or Narui, were an integral part of Garif culture. The first, which was believed to have descended from the heavens along with magicite, was a direct gift from Veless herself. It was to protect the people from the influences of the mystical stones, as legend tells it, and was required of every Garif to always wear them; from the day they take their first breath until the day they take their last. The masks also embodied part of a Garif's soul: one's patience, tolerance, and fortitude. Because of this, it was possible for a Garif to never truly know what his or her own face looked like, let alone one's parents'.

Asdalu calmly walked to the river bordering his village. Dipping his feet into the water, he gazed past the bridge, towards the path to the Ozmone.

"Someday," he whispered to himself. "Someday, I will be free. Free to roam where I want, when I want."

Asdalu kicked his feet into the air, the water twinkling as it speckled the blue Jaharan sky.

Years later, Supinelu was to succeed his brother's position as war chief, and Asdalu would eventually undertake an adventure of a lifetime.


End file.
